Not Just Politics
by the-princess-of-asgard
Summary: Ashe is nervous about her political marriage to the Barbarian King, Tryndamere. Will she find out that the formidable warrior isn't as harsh as he seems? She might even find love. AsheXTrynd wedding night one-shot. M for explicit sexual content.


Ashe glanced nervously out of the corner of her eye at the tall, strapping man that was now her husband. This feast felt like it had worn on for days. How long could people possibly celebrate one marriage? She shifted uncomfortably in her dress. Her crown felt heavy, and the long skirts were stifling, even in the bitter Freljord cold. The burly man next to her laughed and slammed his fist on the banquet table, making the plates and Ashe jump suddenly. She watched him in silence, wide-eyed. She knew that this marriage was the best choice for her kingdom and her people, but she couldn't help being a little afraid of the barbarian king. He hadn't even looked at her since he arrived for their wedding feast. Her eyes wandered over his wide, muscular shoulders, draped in heavy furs that shook when he laughed. Ashe realized with a jump that he had been watching her for the past few moments. She hesitantly met his unblinking gaze, trembling slightly as his eyes scanned hers. After what felt like an agonizingly long time, he flashed his teeth at her in a wolfish grin and turned away. She felt a shiver go up her spine. If it was meant to be reassuring, it wasn't.

She scanned her brain, desperately searching for some reassurance that he wouldn't rip her to shreds as soon as they were alone. All she remembered was the barbarian's name… Tryndamere. She remembered exactly the fear in her friends' and people's eyes when they uttered those syllables, as if they were afraid he would appear and run them through for daring to speak his name. The barbarian tribes had never been anything but a threat to the Avarosan- stealing their livestock in the middle of the night, robbing traders on the merchant roads- but their strength in battle, especially when led by their death-defying king, was unparalleled. She had never thought that he would ever let her leave his camp alive, let alone fight for her, but she knew that she had no other choice if she was to save her tribe. The Avarosan were not known for their military prowess; in the great days, it was told that even the great southern armies of Noxus and Demacia respected, if not feared, their warbands. But those days were long gone, and now her people were a ragged group of simple farmers and villagers, most of her great warriors lost in bloody battles with the Winter's Claw. All that remained of her army were a few grizzled veterans and farmer's boys who barely knew how to hold a sword. Barbaric as he might be, Ashe desperately needed Tryndamere's warrior tribes, and she was prepared to sacrifice herself for the safety of her people. But she couldn't help but worry… what was she sacrificing herself to? Horror stories told by grandmothers around fires and warnings she had learned when she was young echoed in her mind. She remembered how her mother warned her not to go looking for the enigmatic rogue tribes, the stories she was told of the little girls who were snatched in the night and found in old barbarian campsites with their hearts cut out, and how her sister had tried to scare her by telling her that the moaning of the wind was the souls of the young women stolen and enslaved by the savage tribes, weeping in eternal sorrow. Surely those were just wives' tales, repeated to keep children from wandering off… Weren't they? Surely this man couldn't be that great a brute… this man that she had wed… and must now bed… She started to regret not strapping a knife to her thigh, but her handmaids had assured her it was most unbecoming of a newlywed bride to be prepared to murder her husband if need be. She scoffed to herself. Her handmaids had clearly never been faced with marrying a man like this.

A loud cheer rose in the great hall, startling her out of her thought. Glancing up, she realized that everyone in the hall had stood up and was cheering and clapping. She looked up at the barbarian-no, Tryndamere- and saw that he, too, had risen. She gathered her skirts and stood hastily, balancing carefully in her heeled boots. Seeing her people happy immediately relaxed her, and before she knew it she was smiling and blowing kisses to the adoring crowd. After a few moments, the barbarian king cleared his throat and banged on the table three times. The crowd fell silent at his cue, and he smiled. He turned to Ashe, and she felt her heart jump into her throat again.

He really was handsome, in the kind of rugged beauty that all the men of the Freljord had. Scars crisscrossed his stubbly face, and his piercing turquoise eyes seemed to freeze Ashe's heart solid. He turned back to the crowd, and began to speak clearly in a rough, booming voice that filled the whole hall.

"People of the Freljord!" he roared, and the crowd roared with him, stamping their feet and shouting in appreciation. "Tonight marks the beginning of something more than just a marriage. Tonight marks the beginning of an alliance of peoples, forged from the steel of war and now bound in the sanctity of blood. With the power of our two mighty kingdoms united, we will reclaim the our land for what it should rightfully be- a free place for all life to grow and prosper, welcoming as a mother's touch but wild as the northern wind, with a sting that all people may grow to fear. Tonight, this is greater than two souls becoming one. Tonight, we prepare to take back the Freljord!"

He roared his speech with passion, and the crowd reacted to every word he said, surging forth with the power and excitement of a promise of war. He grinned widely at them, and Ashe found herself facing him again. He held out his hand, which she cautiously took, and he extended his arm, lifting their entwined fingers towards the heavens as the crowd rumbled with excitement and joy. Even with the electric energy of her people, Ashe couldn't quite find her happiness. She knew that there was a long war ahead, but her battle began without spells or steel. Her battle began tonight.

Tryndamere let the crowd cheer for what felt like hours, soaking up their fury and their raw energy. This was what he loved in life, the thrill of battle and the sensation of knowing that his entire nation was behind him. He glanced down at the slight figure beside him. Ashe. He couldn't believe she was to be his queen. He would have gladly taken her offer to fight for the Freljord, but her hand in marriage just sweetened the deal. He knew this was the only chance for his people to ever be safe and secure in the harsh lands of the tundra, and even though Avarosan troops were not always on top in battle, he believed in their cause and knew that his own warriors would more than make up for their relative inexperience. However, this small-framed woman beside him looked more like a baby bird than the leader of a powerful nation. His height and brawn dwarfed her petite frame, even with her heeled shoes and straight, confident posture. She was indeed beautiful, fragile like a snowflake but hauntingly beautiful. Her long white hair spilled down her back and swayed as she shifted to wave at her beloved people. She had the palest, most flawless skin Tryndamere had ever seen on a Freljordian woman, and her purple dress fit her perfectly, tailored snugly around her soft curves. She looked so innocent and sweet, like any young maiden, but he knew that she was a brave leader and fearless warrior, born and blooded in the same harsh tundra that had raised him. Yes, he had made the deal for his people, but he was going to take no shame in enjoying every inch of this personal boon.

The crowd began to quiet, and the young queen tipped her head up to look at him. He smiled at her and listened as she spoke, her musical voice sounding like the howling wind's song.

"My beloved people," she addressed the crowd, "I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have this opportunity to unite our tribes to secure our rightful victory. I cannot predict the tides of battle, but I swear to you that as long as my blood is on the throne of the Avarosan, the free people of the barbarian north will never go hungry or be turned away again. You will live with the same pride as the Avarosans, knowing that you helped free the Freljord and saved it from certain doom at the hands of some ancient evil. We will hold this moment in our hearts, memories, and legends for millennia to come. My people, we will stand together for our home. On farms and in towns, we will stand together. Back to back on the battlefield, we will stand together. As of now, our peoples are one, and our cause is the same. To save the Freljord and take back what is rightfully ours!"

She finished her sentence with her fist in the air. The crowd roared in response, and surged nearly onto the platform that she and Tryndamere stood on. He watched and smiled incredulously to himself at the way they responded to her every word. They would unquestionably die for her at a moment's notice, and that kind of loyalty is a loyalty he had long ago learned to respect. That was the loyalty of blood, of family, and that was the loyalty he needed to forge with her people.

Letting the crowd die down again, he spoke. "Well, my dear people, my mother always taught me that word should always be matched by deed, and to truly unite the Freljord we must start somewhere, in the unity of two people." The crowd laughed and cheered in appreciation. Tryndamere smiled, and noticed that Ashe's pale cheeks were beginning to blush pink. He smiled inwardly, and as the crowd began to chant their names, he quickly wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into his arms. The crowd cheered, and she went wide-eyed, but made no sounds of alarm or attempt to struggle. He marveled at how small she was in his arms as he carried her out of the hall and into the royal wing of the great castle, the uproar of the crowd following them all the way down the hallway.

Ashe tried to lie calmly and still in Tryndamere's arms, but her insides were quaking like an avalanche. She would rather fight off a thousand wolves herself than be bedded by this monstrous man. She wished a thousand times over that there was some other way to ensure their peoples' alliance, but reality stared her in the face. She tried to steel her heart, holding closely the fact that she had no other choice in the decision. She had heard about the private matters between a man and woman from the whispers and giggles of the other girls in her tribe when she was young, and then from the gossip of her handmaidens as a queen. She knew how it would work, but she'd never imagined that the man she would wed would be as massively musclebound as he. Her mind raced through every accidental glimpse of a man's member she'd ever seen… but none of those men were as huge as the barbarian king… what should she be expecting? She gulped as he pushed open the door to their new chambers with one hand. She could only hope that he would be gentle with her.

Tryndamere gently laid his bride down on the massive fur-covered bed, admiring the way her flowing tresses framed her pale face. He looked into her crystal-blue eyes and moved his hand up to trace the curve of her cheekbone. He frowned as he felt her tremble from his touch, her head involuntarily tilting away. Gently smoothing his hand over her cheek, he asked softly, "Is something wrong?"

The shock upon Ashe's face was plain at his quiet voice, so different from the harsh, booming commands she had heard him roar in the hall earlier. Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked and stirred, and she replied in a voice barely more than a whisper, "I… I've never done this before… I'm still a maiden." She met his gaze, and there was an edge of fear in her eyes that constricted something in the barbarian's chest. He had never thought that she, an independent, accomplished warrior and queen, would still have her maidenhead. The poor girl… that explained why she had been so quiet and shrinking from his gaze. She was just afraid.

Tryndamere smiled and carefully scooped the young queen up from the furs, pulling her into his lap and cradling her against his chest. "It's all right," he said softly as she pressed her face into his shoulder. "It's okay." He ran his fingers carefully through her long hair, making her shiver and press herself further into his chest. "I won't hurt you. Don't worry, my beautiful queen. I won't hurt you." She pulled her head back, and he could see crystalline tears spilling down her face. The king gently took her small face in his hands and carefully wiped the wetness away. "I won't do anything you don't want me to. I won't take your maidenhead until you're ready."

Ashe looked up at him with glossy eyes, and, hugging him tighter, she pushed her face closer to his and kissed him softly on the lips. She let her eyelids flutter shut as she leaned into the kiss, feeling him caressing her face and hair. Tilting her chin away, she rested her forehead on his and exhaled softly, their breaths mingling. She cupped his cheek in her hand. "I do want this," she whispered, eyes still shut.

Tryndamere kissed her gently. "Then I am all yours."

The frost queen placed her other hand on Tryndamere's stubbly cheek. "Okay," she murmured. "Just be gentle."

The barbarian smiled, placing a finger under her chin and gently tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "I'd never hurt you, my queen." Their mouths met again, more urgently this time, and Ashe found her lips parting with a sigh for her king's warm tongue. Her heart began to beat faster as he kissed her, and she leaned into the contact so he would wrap his arms around her. Tryndamere swiftly picked her up, making her gasp, and placed her standing facing away from him to the corner bedpost of the huge canopy bed. Ashe gripped the wood frame tightly as the tall man carefully swept her long white hair over her shoulder to kiss the back of her neck. It sent pleasurable little shivers all down her back and, to her surprise, she let out a quiet moan. Ashe could feel her king smile, his lips still pressed to her spine, as he started to slowly unbutton her dress, kissing every inch of her skin he exposed. Letting her dress drop to the floor, his fingers swiftly moved to the strings of her corset, unlacing it before the archer barely noticed. She gasped as her chest was freed of the binding garment, and Tryndamere wasted no time in pulling her body flat against his, kissing the side of her neck as his palms grasped her firm breasts, making her arch against his solid chest. The young queen noticed something hard pressing against her backside, and blushed as she realized this must be what she had heard her childhood friends talking about. Her king swayed a little, keeping hold on her figure, and grinding his hips back and forth he ran his fingertips over her sensitive pink nipples. Ashe moaned louder and her knees felt wobbly at the foreign sensation. She had never known that being touched like that could feel so good… warmth ran down her spine and pooled between her legs, and she blushingly noticed that her tight-fitting loincloth was damp.

Her king noticed too, briefly stopping the assault on her nipples to hook his thumbs in the garment and slide it down her legs, kneeling as he went. Ashe let go of the bedpost, wobbling a little, as Tryndamere guided her gently to turn around so she was facing him. He held her hips securely and she reflexively buried her fingers in his long black hair, combing them through it to find some reassurance. The barbarian smiled at her and moved his face closer to the warmth between her thighs, so close she could feel his breath and she gasped. Her hands flew to his, gripping her hips, and he laced his fingers through hers, planting a gentle kiss right below her navel before leaning back to smile at the frost archer.

"Trust me, sweet girl," he purred. "Just hold my hands. You'll like this, I promise." Ashe nodded and closed her eyes, pressing her palms into his and gasping as she felt his stubbly chin connect with her nether lips, making her every nerve sing. She wobbled and would have fallen if not for Tryndamere's hands holding her up. He pressed his nose into the fine white hair on her mound, inhaling gently. When he looked back up at the young archer, his pupils were wide with lust. "You smell divine, my queen," he breathed. "Intoxicating, even." Ashe's eyelids fluttered shut and then open again as she whimpered at the sensation of her king gently kissing the hood of her most sensitive spot. She felt him smile against her, and then he gently pressed his tongue between her sensitive lips, making her tremble and moan, tossing back her head with pleasurable abandon. Tryndamere squeezed the young queen's hands as he continued to lick her firmly, flicking his tongue against her. Ashe continued to whimper and inadvertently began to gently rock her hips against his mouth, rolling her delicate lips over his tongue in a steady rhythm. Her king gently pushed the tip of his tongue inside her, making her moan and tremble and press harder against him for more. He gladly obliged, massaging her sensitive opening and setting every nerve alight. Her whimpering and bucking became erratic, rutting desperately against the barbarian king's mouth. He carefully moved one of his hands to stroke in between Ashe's legs before sinking a finger deep into her. She squeezed his fingers with her inner muscles and gasped at the sensation.

"Good girl," Tryndamere reassured his queen, pressing another finger into her and moving his mouth to suck gently on her sensitive spot. She moaned and trembled, basking in the feeling, but desperately wanting more. "Please…" the frost archer whimpered, bucking her hips against him. "Please!"

The barbarian didn't need to be asked again. He gave her nether lips one last kiss and swiftly rose, gripping Ashe by the hips as he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around her king and kissed him desperately as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Barely realizing what she was doing, the young queen started fumbling for the buckles on his heavy furs. Tryndamere smiled and helped her unbuckle his thick fur coat, which he immediately shrugged off. Ashe pulled desperately at his tunic underneath as the barbarian reached up and helped her remove the garment. The heat of his bare chest against her naked body was a whole new sensation. Compared to the cold air and stone floors of the Freljordian castle, she wanted to sink into his warm chest and stay there forever.

She buried her nose in the middle of his chest, inhaling her king's scent deeply, memorizing it. He cupped her chin and guided her face up to his as his hands roved over her warm body again, moving from her breasts to her hips to her backside, gently rubbing her all over. The queen shivered and snuggled closer to Tryndamere. Gently, he took hold of her small hands and moved them to his belt buckle. Ashe scrambled to open it, pulling at the top of his breeches as she did. As he pushed the garment to the floor, his ample erection sprang free.

Ashe gasped, reaching down to run the tips of her fingers over it. His skin was soft like velvet, but as hard as the steel of a sword underneath. She looked at it nervously, and felt her old worries come creeping back. It didn't look like it could possibly fit… could it? The barbarian king seemed to realize her fears, as he smiled and kissed her gently. "Don't worry," he chuckled. "It fits, I promise you. It won't hurt as long as we're careful, and I am a very careful man. I would never hurt my queen." Ashe leaned her head against his shoulder in thought. She trusted him not to hurt her, and she had a strange feeling that even if it hurt, she wanted him anyway. Ashe traced her fingertips over Tryndamere's length again. She noticed moisture pooling at the tip and absentmindedly rubbed her finger through it.

This time it was the barbarian's turn to flinch. He grunted in pleasure, automatically thrusting his hips toward her gentle touch. The young archer glanced quizzically at her king. "It feels good," he laughed. "I get damp too when I'm ready." Ashe eyed his member, wondering what he tasted like. She scooted over so Tryndamere would be leaning against the headboard and she could kneel between his knees. Ducking her head down, she hesitantly licked the slit of his cock.

Immediately his hips stuttered upwards, and her king grunted. Ashe sat back and considered the taste. It tasted like salt and sex and Trynd, and she wanted more, but before she could press her mouth back to his length he caught her chin in his long fingers. "I appreciate it, but I don't think I'll be able to last very long in your mouth, and I need my seed for something else tonight," said her king softly.

He guided her face back to his and kissed her passionately, cupping her soft breasts to make her arch into him. Ashe squirmed in pleasure as he moved his palms down her body to rub her backside. "Are you ready to give me an heir, my queen?" Tryndamere murmured, laving her nipples with his tongue and even mixing in a playful bite or two, which made the frost archer yelp in pleasure. He kissed each breast gently. "I won't hurt you, I promise. And you'll love it."

"Yes, yes, yes," Ashe desperately whimpered. "Please, Tryndamere…"

The sound of his name on the queen's lips was all the convincing the rogue needed. He kissed her firmly, and grasping her hips, pulled her onto her knees so she was hovering above his member. He carefully dampened two of his fingers in his mouth to prepare her with, but when he slipped his digits between her legs the king realized that she was already dripping wet. Tryndamere smiled and moved his hands back to Ashe's round hips. "You're all ready for me by yourself, my sweet girl," he breathed into her ear. Blushing, the young archer wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his dark hair. "It's beautiful," he noted softly. "You're beautiful."

The king guided the tip of his cock to Ashe's entrance, making her shiver. "I know, baby," he murmured. "I'll go slow. I'll never hurt you, I promise." The archer nodded her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut and breathing in the scent of his hair to calm herself as Tryndamere slowly lowered her hips onto his thick shaft. He pressed himself into her so slowly and gently, and she was slick and wet from him playing with her, but it couldn't mask the fact that as he slid past her maidenhead, Ashe felt a sharp pain. She cried out softly and wrapped her arms tighter around her king, curling up in his lap.

Tryndamere stroked her hair and comforted her, kissing her shoulders and neck and whispering to her. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured. "It's okay, sweet girl. It only hurts for a moment." Wanting to believe her new husband, Ashe tremblingly pressed herself into the barbarian's chest for what felt like hours instead of seconds. When her king started to move again, she realized that her pain had given way to ecstasy. She gasped, her eyes wide, as he sank himself inside of her. Moaning, the archer found herself rocking her hips against him, urging him deeper between her thighs. She leaned back, the sight of his rock-hard erection pushing into her making her whimper.

Tryndamere grinned and kissed Ashe hard, his tongue exploring her mouth as the queen found her sweet surrender and, shuddering with pleasure, relaxed her muscles and let her king take her freely. He groaned as his hips came to a halt, pushed all the way inside of her, their hips pressing flat against each other's. She gasped and instinctively touched her belly at the strange feeling of her king's warm shaft pressing directly at the entrance of her womb.

"Trynd…" she whimpered. "I want more, please, oh, Trynd…" The barbarian shoved his tongue into her mouth and grabbed firm hold of her hips, pulling her up and down his length, cutting off the end of her sentence. Ashe moaned and rutted frantically against him, pleading in gasping breaths. In one fluid motion, the king grabbed hold of her hips and sat up, spinning her around so he could take her from behind. It made the archer shiver. She felt like a wild animal in the spring, being bred. And somehow, she loved it.

Tryndamere guided her knees together and pushed her down on all fours, her hair spilling around her face. He grabbed her waist in one hand and, with the other, reached around her hip to rub her clit. Ashe moaned wildly and arched her back, pressing herself further into the barbarian's hands as he rubbed her in tiny circles and pounded her rhythmically into the furs. For minutes, she whimpered and rocked her hips back to meet him for every thrust, fighting the urge to obey her instincts and let go, but at last, the frost archer burst wildly into her orgasm, crying out in perfect ecstasy and nearly collapsing. She started to drip around Tryndamere's shaft, but she was too dazed even to blush. Her king pressed a kiss to her back and leaned over her, molding his body to hers and wrapping his arms around her chest to play with her sensitive nipples again. Ashe cried out and turned to kiss her king while he thrust into her. "Give me an heir, my love," she moaned. "Fill me up with you."

With one last thrust, the barbarian found his release inside of his bride, holding her hips steady as they both cried out. His cock throbbed as he spilled his seed, and the barbarian gasped as Ashe clenched her inner muscles, milking him dry. He kissed the trembling young queen and after a moment, he gently separated them, pulling her into his arms as he lay back.

Ashe closed her eyes and sighed, and they lay there for some time, basking in the heat radiating from each other's bodies. Tryndamere kissed her on the forehead, and her eyes fluttered open. He smiled, and held her closer to his chest. "You are mine," he murmured. Ashe sat up to meet his lips. "I am yours."

Rolling them over on their sides, the king pulled the archer's body flat against his, pulling the furs over their naked bodies. He threw his arm over her protectively, and she snuggled closer to his wide chest, letting sleep take them both over.


End file.
